Everything Changed (And I Don't Know Why)
by Sealure
Summary: As is so happens, when you don't reach for someone, they tend to be left behind. When others try to reach them instead, the ranks of the lost simply grow. Peter didn't grab Edmund's hand. Lucy tried to reach them. Now the two of them are alone on opposite ends of a world they used to know. NO ROMANCE!
1. The Rest of Us Have Yet To Find

**Here is the promised Prince Caspian AU!**

 **So, the idea for this one is when Ed shouts, "I'm not holding your hand!" in an effort to make Peter reach for him after a year of being so distant and angry, Peter does not, in fact, reach out, and Edmund is pulled away from the other three *GASP***

 **Lucy, on seeing this, lets go herself to try and reach him. She cannot, because the Magic is already too strong. But because they got pulled into the Magic before they were supposed to, they end up in Narnia too early. So Susan and Peter haven't gotten there yet, and Lucy and Edmund are half a world away from each other.**

 **DISCLAIMER: This is CS Lewis's sandbox. I am just very happily playing with his toys.**

 **WARNINGS: Nope, this one is good! I mean, there's a lot of feels or whatever, but other than that!**

 **SPOILERS: Prince Caspian, little bit of movie, little bit of book, but mostly movie.**

 **SO, here we go!**

* * *

 _ **Everything Changed (And I Don't Know Why)**_

* * *

The magic began to swirl faster and pull harder, and Lucy looked at the others, desperate excitement filling her sea-colored eyes. But when she looked towards Edmund, she saw Peter _let go._ Horror flooded her, she gasped out a hoarse, " _NO!"_ and ripped her hand out of Susan's, throwing herself towards her brother.

Her hand reached out, and Edmund shouted something, lunging towards her, both arms reaching, trying to grab hers, but then he was gone, and Lucy was spinning upside down and sideways. Black spots filled her vision, and then _sploosh!_ She was unceremoniously dumped into deep water. She sank for a few minutes, trying to remember which way was _up._ Eventually, she managed to find it, and started swimming towards it.

Then she burst above the surface, gasping for air. She opened her eyes and almost cried, because she would always recognize the Eastern Sea no matter how dizzy she was. She was home. Laughing and crying and shouting thanks to Aslan, she swam quickly back to the shore. She hauled herself out of the water and looked around.

"Peter?" she called. There was no answer. "Susan?" Only her echo replied. "Edmund?!" Silence.

"Oh, no," Lucy whispered. She raked her fingers through her hair and started pacing. "Oh, this is bad. Alright, alright. Calm down. Aslan is watching over them. Oh, dearest Lion, please keep them safe!"

She ran back down to the water, took a deep breath and started to sing. She sang the sea songs that the mermaids had taught her. She called their names until her voice was hoarse and her eyes were stinging with tears and she was shivering from cold. But none of them answered her. Her sea, her beautiful sea, was empty and cold.

The Valiant sucked in a deep breath and looked up the cliff, then tilted her head in surprise. Since when were there ruins along the Narnian coast? She climbed up to investigate. The view was absolutely beautiful, but wholly unfamiliar. Lucy frowned. She had memorized every bit of shoreline, and the fact that she didn't recognize this was not a good sign. She turned to head deeper into the ruins and flailed her arms, trying not to fall over as something sharp jabbed her bare foot—she'd lost her shoes in the water.

"Ouch!" she muttered, picking it up. A golden Centaur stared up at her, broadsword held up in a salute. "Funny," she whispered to herself, lightly stroking his back. "You look just like one of Edmund's knights in that old chess set he had."

Smiling a bit at her own wistfulness, she flipped the piece over, where her brother's seal would have been if the piece was his—

The seal was there.

Lucy felt her face go white. She looked around the ruins with new eyes, seeing in her mind soaring towers and flowing banners. She let out a low moan of agony as she saw the decimated throne room. She sank to her knees before the lump of rock that used to be her throne and let herself weep for a precious few minutes.

Then she wiped away her tears, and went hunting for the old treasure chamber. It took her a while, and a whole lot of effort, to get the wall to slide away, but the door was still intact. She kicked the lock out and shoved the door open, carefully feeling her way down the steps since she had no light. When she reached the floor, she threw open the iron gates and just stared at the room, full of golden sunlight.

"It's still here," she whispered.

She saw an elaborate gold plate, engraved with the Lion's likeness, and lifted it off the ground.

"Oh, Aslan," she murmured. "How could you let this happen?"

She carried the plate over to her chest, pushing open the lid. The first thing she saw was a golden gown made for a willowy, slender girl at least two and a half feet taller than Lucy was now.

She sighed. "Well, it's not going to be any use now." So she used the skirt of the dress to polish the plate until the Lion gleamed. Satisfied, she placed it in her statue's arms, and went about finding something to wear in her chest.

The gowns were beautiful, but impractical. If what she'd seen upstairs was any indicator, she would need to be the Warrior Queen, not the stately royal who held court in gowns of silk and satin. But Warrior Queen wasn't the name they had called her by.

"The Wild Lady of the Wolves," she whispered, a smile stealing over her face as she remembered nights spent running with the pack. Edmund had always been better than she at woodcraft, but she'd learned fast, and in her the wolves had recognized a fellow loyal, fierce spirit. The fact that she'd been the Whisper, the feared Head of Narnian Intelligence, had also helped with stealth, tracking, and all that.

"Oh, duh," she said, shaking her head at herself.

Whoever had packed her trunk would have been someone very close to her, which meant her weapons, leggings and hunting tunics should be in here somewhere. Sure enough, in a false compartment in the bottom, there were dark tunics, sturdy leather boots, and hardy cloaks. Her bow, quiver, long knives, boot knives, throwing knives, dagger and cordial were also safely stashed away.

Ten minutes later she felt much more like herself. She wore a dark blue tunic, black leggings and boots with a deep green cloak. She had a knife in each boot, and her cordial and dagger were slung around her hips once more. Her bow, quiver, and long knives were strapped across her shoulders, and the bandolier of throwing knives wrapped around her body, going over one shoulder like a sash.

"Oh, that's better," she sighed. Rubbing her arms, she looked around the room, biting her lip. She didn't know where any of her siblings were. As far as she knew, they'd all been dropped into their corner of Narnia: her in the East, Ed in the West, Pete in the North, and Su in the South. But she knew that the Cair would be the first place they'd go. Except Ed—he'd go check on his people first, to make sure they were all right. And Edmund was really who she was most concerned about; so her decision was made: to the West.

* * *

Lucy knelt for what felt like the six thousandth time that day and ran her fingers over the tracks on the ground.

She had been in the woods for three days now, and still hadn't seen hide nor hair of her brother. She hadn't found a single Narnian, either.

She pursed her lips and started to rise when a gleam of metal caught her eye from a few yards to her right. She jogged over and brushed aside the ferns.

It was…..a sword?

Lucy blinked. Why was there a sword buried in the ferns in the middle of nowhere?

She sighed. "This is getting ridiculous, Aslan," she said quietly. Over the days, she had found herself talking to the Lion almost constantly, stubbornly refusing to believe that He couldn't hear her. "I've been here for almost four days now, and I still haven't found a single one of our people. I haven't seen a single Squirrel or Bird or Deer or Horse, and it's frightening me. What—"her voice broke, and she had to blink very hard for a long moment. "What happened to our people?" she whispered. "After we left?"

She raked a hand sharply through her hair, fighting to ignore the little voice in her mind that hissed, _All your fault. Look what's happened. All your fault. You led them out. You abandoned Narnia. Look what's happed_ _ **because of you. It's all your fault.**_

It was hard to ignore the voice, but after over a year of hearing it, she was rather well used to it. (And it's not like it wasn't _right…_ )

 _Lucy…_

The voice whispered from her left. "Aslan?" she whispered, whipping around to face it.

 _Lucy…_

The slender girl leaped through the brush, bolting towards the sound of the well-loved, well-known voice of her King.

She burst through the last line of trees, finding herself at the edge of a gorge that plummeted straight down to a wild river. A distant corner of her mind acknowledged that, but most of her attention was riveted on the massive golden Lion waiting for her on the other side.

"Aslan!" she cried, tears filling her eyes.

"Come to me, Dear One," he said gently.

She stepped forwards, trustfully, only to shout in surprise as the ground gave out beneath her feet. She fell a good four feet, but landed on a sturdy ledge. Looking around, she quickly saw the path leading to the bottom of the gorge.

She looked up at Aslan—but He was gone. She stared, heart sinking. Had she just imagined Him? But no. She would never have found this pathway on her own. He wanted her to cross.

So she quickly made her way down the path. She did slip halfway across the river, though, and soaked her right side. But she was on her way to Aslan, and really didn't care.

She finally made it up the other side of the gorge, and took off at a run for where she'd seen the Lion.

And there He was, waiting for her.

"Aslan!" she cried out as her arms wrapped around His mighty neck and her face was buried in His sweet mane.

"Lucy," He said gently.

"I'm so sorry!" she cried, losing her battle with her tears. "I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to leave! I didn't mean to—"her voice died, and she just clung tighter to Him as she cried.

"Lucy," He said again, and gently drew away from her. She wrapped her arms around herself, sinking to her knees in a torrent of self-hatred and guilt.

"Look at Me, Daughter of Eve," He said, and His voice was terrible—quiet, but it rang like thunder in her ears. She trembled as she raised her tear-stained eyes to His blazing gold ones. "I am the Son of the Emperor Over the Sea. I am the Creator of this world and all other worlds. I always have been and I always will be. Nothing happens but by My will." Here his voice softened, and He gently nudged her forehead. " _Nothing_ , Dear One. It was My will for you to leave."

Her eyes widened, _pain_ ripping through them. "Oh, Aslan," she whispered. " _Why?_ Why did we have to go? Why did I have to lead them out? Did I do something wrong?"

"No, Dear One," He said. He laid down beside her, and she curled up between His paws. He purred gently and blew on her face, and she felt new strength fill her weary heart. "My plans are not your plans," He said gently. "My will is not your will. As well as you know Me, you cannot understand Me fully. You had to leave so My will could be done. And I chose you to lead them, Valiant Queen, because you are the bravest of them all."

Lucy's shoulders slumped. "But Aslan, I've been afraid all year!" she exclaimed, dismayed. "I haven't been brave at all!"

Aslan smiled. "You let go to reach your brother," He reminded her. "You armed yourself and left a place of safety to go and find him. You are the Valiant Queen of Narnia still, Lucy. Do not doubt yourself. That is why I chose you to lead your siblings out—because no matter how you doubt yourself, you have never doubted Me."

"Oh," Lucy said, feeling very small and very proud and very like she was going to burst into tears again.

He smiled warmly, and showered her in wild Lion kisses, and she thought her heart would burst because she was _home_ , and she was with Aslan, and _He didn't blame her_ and for the first time in a year the _guilt_ wasn't crawling up her throat, threatening to choke her.

She threw her arms about Him again, and He chuckled. Then He rose to His feet. "Now, climb on my back," He said. "There are places you need to be, Queen of Narnia."

And when Lucy rose to her feet, she could _feel_ the difference. Her shoulders were straighter, and her spirit stronger. She felt taller, and she knew that her eyes were clearer. Aslan had summoned the Valiant, and she had answered the call.

She was home.

* * *

 _Two weeks later…_

* * *

Lucy was absentmindedly fletching arrows. So much had happened in the last few weeks…

Aslan had brought her to a massive tree (but she was absolutely certain it should have been a Tree), and when the door had opened and a Badger and two Dwarves came out, she'd nearly cried. The Badger had immediately recognized her, and while the Dwarves stubbornly clung to their suspicion for a while longer, it really is hard to argue with Aslan.

On the way there, however, she'd asked Him about her siblings. And He'd told her what He'd always told her when she asked things like that, "No one is told any story but their own, Dear One."

And when she'd asked about the Trees: "All things in their own time."

So she had stayed with Trumpkin, Nikabrik, and Trufflehunter for a few days, and then Trumpkin had been captured by those _dreadful_ Telmarines, saving the life of a young man, who had then shocked Lucy speechless by blowing none other than Susan's horn.

The boy's name was Prince Caspian, and hadn't _that_ been a surprise. A _Telmarine Prince._ And she actually _wanted_ him to win. Lucy shook her head in awe at the way Aslan was always surprising her. Though to be honest, Caspian looked just as surprised as she did, and about twenty times more lost.

The poor boy.

She shook her head, biting back a smile at the memory of Caspian trying to convince the Minotaurs to come to the gathering that was to be later that night. It hadn't gone so well to start with, and Lucy had had to intervene. Apparently, _she_ was rather hard to argue with as well.

But eventually, all had agreed to come.

She shifted her focus from the arrow in her hands to the woods around her and allowed herself a sigh. She was desperately afraid for her siblings now. She'd been here for two weeks. Add to that the four days she'd wandered before she met Aslan, and that was almost three weeks. And she still had no idea where any of them were.

Hopefully, someone at the gathering tonight would have heard or seen _something_. She had especially high hopes about the wolves. Caspian had told her that he'd been unable to find them at all, but had the word of many other woodland creatures that they would be at the gathering.

The Wolves always had been loyal to Edmund, like the Gryphons to Peter and the Doves to Susan and the great Cats to Lucy herself. So if any creature had news of the Western King, it would be them.

She knew that she ought to be just as worried about the older two, and she was, but at the same time she was just so _angry_ at them.

Susan had been drawing away from Lucy ever since they went back to England, becoming wrapped up in her makeup, and popular friends. The younger sibling felt like she hadn't even _seen_ her sister in almost six months. But Lucy quickly brushed off any hurt dealt to herself—she was the Healer, it wasn't their job to heal her.

But Peter…oh, the way he'd been acting lately….It was enough to break her heart. Edmund never said a word about it, either. At first, Peter would realize what he'd said as soon as he'd said it, and if he didn't, Susan would make sure that he was _informed._ And he'd go running to Ed and hug him and apologize, in tears because of the pain that he'd caused to one he was supposed to protect.

But nowadays, he didn't notice (didn't care) when he hurt the younger boy. He shouted and used his words just as effectively as he'd ever used his sword. And with those words, he dealt Edmund a hurt that Lucy could not heal.

When he was done screaming, or throwing things, or fighting, Peter would storm away to stew in solitude. Susan would just purse her lips and flounce off somewhere else to pretend that none of this was happening. Edmund…Edmund would go to his and Peter's room. He would get a washcloth, and he'd start cleaning up the bruises he'd sustained watching Peter's back.

And Lucy would come up behind him and take it from him. She'd make sure he was looked after _right_ , because no one else was going to do it. She would get him cleaned up and doctored up, and then she would hold out her arms. He'd collapse in them, and then he'd cry. Only in front of her, and only in those far too few moments that he allowed himself to hide in her always open arms.

He always knew when she needed him to return the favor, too. Whenever Susan was careless with a comment, or pretended she didn't know "that strange little Pevensie girl", Edmund would come and find Lucy wherever she was hiding. He'd pull her out and into his arms, and that was the only place she let herself cry anymore. They had done the best they could to keep each other together, because honestly, somedays it felt like their older siblings were doing everything they could to tear their hearts to shreds.

Warm hands settled over hers, jarring her back to reality. Caspian was kneeling in front of her, dark eyes equal parts concerned and understanding. He gently started unfolding her clenched fists, and she realized with a start that she'd snapped the arrow in two. She had to make a conscious effort to loosen her hands.

"Sorry," she murmured.

"Do not worry about it," he answered softly. "Where did you go running to this time?"

A tiny smile pulled one corner of her mouth. "England," she sighed. "And the usual sibling worries. If we don't find them by tonight, I'm rather afraid that I'm going to do something drastic."

Caspian snorted. "I'm not _afraid_ that you'll do something drastic—I _know_ that you will."

She scoffed, gently swatting his chest. Tears unexpectedly stung her eyes, and he noticed—of course he did. He pulled her into his arms, settling them both comfortably to the ground.

"I'm sorry," he said contritely. "I didn't mean to—"

"No, no, no," she interrupted. "It wasn't anything you said. It was how you said it. You sounded just like Ed," she gave a wet laugh. "And that's a very good thing, I'm just so worried about him right now."

Caspian sighed, running his fingers through her hair.

The two had gotten to know each other very well over the weeks. Caspian looked to her as the sister he'd never had, and she saw him as another brother. He knew that she would always support him, and offer clearheaded, sound advice. And he could soothe her fears and wake her from her nightmares with a success rate that only Edmund surpassed.

She was brutally honest with him about what he could expect from the other three sovereigns, not sugar-coating just how lost Peter was right now, and how confused Susan was. (The only thing she kept to herself was something that Ed had sobbed into her ear in the middle of the night three days before they left for school—and that, she had sworn by the Lion, she would never tell another living soul)

Caspian had been understanding, saying he probably would respond the same way were it him in Peter's boots.

All things considered, both young Royals were incredibly grateful to Aslan for bringing them together.

"I came to tell you that it is time to leave for the gathering," Caspian said softly.

Lucy wiped her eyes and pulled herself together with the ease of long practice. "Well then. Let's be off, shall we?"

Caspian rose to his feet and gave her a hand up, and within ten minutes they were off.

* * *

They arrived at the clearing long before any of the other Narnians, as per Lucy's request.

"I don't want them to follow me," she'd told Caspian days ago. "I'm not here to reclaim my throne. I'm here to put you on yours. I'll only step in if I absolutely have to."

She wanted to see how the Narnians would respond to Caspian without her influence. She'd helped him with his Minotaur problem, but they had been sworn to secrecy, and no other Narnians (except for Nikabrik and Trufflehunter) even knew she was back, so she had surprise on her side.

She pulled the hood of her cloak up and scaled a large oak tree, expertly hiding herself in the leafy branches.

"How do you do that?!" Caspian called softly. "I watched you climb up, and I _still_ can't see you!"

She laughed. "Tools of the trade!"

He scoffed and muttered something under his breath that was probably not a compliment, then turned and settled against the base of her tree.

Lucy adjusted herself to a more comfortable position, knowing they were going to be here for a while. She tilted her head back and stared at the sky, and allowed herself one heartbeat to wish that Aslan's plan had been different. Her people were scattered and broken, and they had a kind of savagery to them now that she hadn't seen in many, many years.

She bit her lip, then took a deep breath and started to build her Whisper mindset. If she let her emotions dictate how she acted, she would never get through this meeting, and she knew it. Lucy was very good at suppressing emotion. She never closed it off completely—at least, not on purpose—but she couldn't afford to let her emotions drive her to make mistakes in a battle. And as heart breaking as it was, she was going into a battlefield now. Her people were angry and lost, and they would quite possibly blame her and her siblings for leaving them.

But this was one battle she was determined to win.

* * *

"Oath-breaker!"

"Murderer!"

"Thief!"

"Kill him!"

"Make them pay!"

"All this horn proves is that they've stolen yet _another_ thing from us!" Nikabrik shouted.

It had been a _very_ good idea to get a lid her emotions. Otherwise, Lucy would have been a puddle of tears on the ground by now. She still felt like her heart was being slowly ripped out.

 _Oh, my people…..What have they done to you?_

Caspian stood in the center of a ring of accusation and hate.

"I didn't steal anything!" he argued passionately.

"Didn't steal anything?!" bellowed Wimbleweather, the Giant. "Shall we list the things the Telmarines have taken?!"

"Our homes!" shouted a female Centaur.

"Our land!" yelled someone else.

"Our freedom!"

"Our _lives_!"

"Our mothers and fathers!"

"Our children!"

Caspian's wide, dark eyes burned with shame as for the first time, he truly saw the depth of the damage inflicted by his forbearers. "You would hold me accountable for the crimes of my people?"

"Accountable, and punishable," Nikabrik snapped, waddling down to stand in front of Caspian.

"Ha!" snapped Reepicheep. "That is rich coming from you, _Dwarf_. Or have you forgotten that it was _your_ people who fought alongside the _White Witch_?"

Lucy took in a very careful, slow breath. _Jadis._ The very thought of her filled Lucy with a strong desire to resurrect her just so she could kill her again herself— in a much slower and less merciful way than Aslan.

"And I'd gladly do it again," Nikabrik sneered, flicking Reep's blade aside. "If it would rid us of these barbarians!"

Lucy pulled back the arrow already nocked to the string, and her eyes narrowed. _You wretched worm. You have no idea what she was like. You will pay dearly for that, mark my words. Speak of her again, I dare you. It will be the last thing you ever do._

Then a calm voice washed across the chaos below, soothing the storm. "Then we are lucky that it is not in your power to bring her back." Trufflehunter shuffled into the center of the circle. "Some of you may you have forgotten, but we Badgers remember well that Narnia was never right, except when a Son of Adam was king."

Lucy lowered her bow, but left the arrow on the string.

Nikabrik stared at his old friend like he'd lost his mind. "He's a _Telmarine!_ Why would we want him as our _King?!"_

"Because I can help you!" Caspian said. He turned, meeting the eyes of as many of them as he could. "Beyond these woods, I am a Prince. The Telmarine throne is rightfully mine! Help me claim it, and I can bring _peace_ between us."

There was a moment of silence, and Lucy smiled. _Well spoken, Caspian._

The powerful Centaur sire, Glenstorm, stepped forward. "It is true." Instantly, all eyes were on him, and no one dared interrupt—not even Nikabrik. "The time is ripe. I watch the skies, for it is mine to watch as it is yours to remember, Badger. Tarva, the Lord of Victory, and Alambil, the Lady of Peace, have come together in the high heavens. And now here, a Son of Adam has come forth, to offer us back our freedom."

Lucy's eyes widened. _Tarva and Alambil together?! The last time that happened—to my knowledge—was when we defeated Jadis!_

"Is this possible?" asked a high, fast voice a few branches below Lucy. A Squirrel—Pattertwig, if her memory served—flicked his tail nervously. "Do you really think there could be peace? Do you? I mean, I mean, really?"

Caspian took a deep breath. "Two days ago," he said, "I didn't believe in the existence of Talking Animals, or Dwarves, or Centaurs."

Lucy had to bite her lip to stifle her laugh at the way Pattertwig's tail went stiff with indignation.

Caspian raised Susan's horn and stared at the ground. "Whether this horn is magic or not, it brought us together. And together, we can take back what is ours!" he locked his burning eyes on Glenstorm.

Glenstorm bowed his head. "If you will lead us, my sons and I offer you our swords."

Lucy felt tears stinging her eyes as he drew his broadsword from his side sheath and one by one, every Narnian in the clearing followed his example.

Caspian looked around, overwhelmed.

An older Faun stepped forward. "Glenstorm," he called, bowing his head in respect. "The legends say that when the horn is blown, the Kings and Queens of Old will return to us! The horn has been blown! And what of the strange echo heard nearly a month ago? Where are they?"

A clamor arose as others raised their voices in agreement.

Lucy smirked. This was going to be fun. She shifted until she drew Caspian's eyes, and nodded to him once, and he grinned.

"Friends!" he shouted, gaining their attention once more. "I know not where all of them are, but one of the Four is already here!"

The Narnians began to look around, staring at each other and Caspian in utter confusion.

"So what say you, Wild Queen of the East?" Caspian shouted, striding towards her tree. "Will you fight for Narnia once more?"

Lucy dropped from the tree, landing in a graceful crouch. She rose to her feet and threw back her hood as she strode towards Caspian.

The Narnians gaped at her in total silence for a single heartbeat, then a roar of _joy_ sounded, so loud that the Telmarines must have heard it from their castle. Minotaurs bellowed as Fauns and Satyrs shouted, skipping around in impromptu jigs. Centaurs bowed to her, and the Talking Animals whooped and cheered. The Red Dwarves started laughing and dancing, and most of their Black brethren did as well.

Lucy didn't stop until she reached Caspian. Then she drew one long dagger and her bow and dropped to her knees, offering the weapons to Caspian.

Dead silence fell over the clearing.

"My King," she said, clearly and firmly. "I, Lucy Pevensie, the Valiant of Narnia and Dear One of Aslan, swear myself to your service. My blades and my bow will fight by your side and for your cause as long as your cause aligns with Aslan's." She stood and resheathed her dagger.

Caspian grinned and held out his hand. They clasped forearms, and the Narnians exploded again.

Once the joy died down, Lucy drew and nocked an arrow in less than a second, pivoting on one foot and releasing.

Nikabrik let out a sharp yelp as the arrow embedded itself in the bank behind him, less than an inch from his head.

"Nikabrik, descendent of Ginarbrik," she hissed, stalking towards him with another arrow already on the string.

Nikabrik's eyes widened. "How do you—"

"I recognize the ring you wear." She drew the arrow back further, and the wretched dwarf cowered before her. "You speak of the White Witch," she said, her voice hard and unforgiving. "That is treason against the Lion and against the Four Thrones of Narnia. Jadis cursed this land and all those in it. Hundreds of thousands of Narnians gave their lives to free Narnia from her thrall, and you would _dare_ suggest allying with her?"

Nikabrik stared up at her, unable to speak.

"What say you?!" she demanded.

* * *

Caspian watched with wide eyes. Lucy had seemed to grow two feet taller as she approached the trembling dwarf. Her face was beautiful, but a terrible light was in her eyes. They were seeing her as she used to be, Caspian realized. This was the Valiant.

Lucy lowered her bow, but her eyes kept the dwarf pinned in place. "You had better hope that ring is a family heirloom and nothing more," she said softly, _dangerously,_ and Caspian suppressed a shudder. "Because I will warn you now—I am not Just. I am not Gentle, and I am not Magnificent. I do not give mercy and second chances. I am the Valiant, and that is far more than a little girl's faith. I will do what needs to be done to protect my people and my family. Do you understand?"

He nodded, and she turned away from him. He collapsed to the ground, breathing hard.

Lucy turned to face Glenstorm, and to Caspian's surprise, the Centaur had a small smile on his face.

"Welcome, Wild One," he rumbled, twisting his hand over his chest in a strange gesture Caspian had never seen before.

Lucy's eyes shone, the wrathful Lioness gone as quickly as she'd come. She easily mimicked the gesture and bowed in one smooth movement. "I have no words to describe my joy at being back, my good Cousin."

Glenstorm laughed. "And they said your brother had a silver tongue."

Lucy grew serious. "Speaking of my Royal Brother. We Four were together when we were called, but were separated upon our arrival. I landed in the Eastern Ocean. I do not know where my siblings are, but if I had to guess, I would assume that we each landed in our respective compass points."

Glenstorm's brow furrowed. "That is grave news indeed, My Lady."

"May I?" she asked, and Glenstorm stepped back, waving his arm as an invitation for her to do as she pleased.

She bowed in gratitude, then turned to face her people. "Wolves of the Western Wood!" she called sharply and strongly, and Caspian could see the Queen in the girl. "The Wild Lady summons you!"

A low howl rang out from somewhere, and then wolves, great Wolves of incredible size and speed, were pouring down into the Lawn. There were many warm greetings between the Wolves and many of the Narnians, but Lucy had eyes only for the Wolf that approached her.

He bowed before her, then rose to his full height. He was _massive_ , about an inch taller than Lucy, and his coat was a beautiful brindle. His eyes were a vibrant green.

"We answer the call, Wild Lady," he said, voice a low rumble.

She gave him a feral smile, and Caspian couldn't help but think that Lucy looked much like a wolf herself.

"What are you called?"

"Angrim, Lady."

"Have you news of my brother, Edmund the Just?"

The great Wolf nodded. "He landed in our midst almost two fortnights ago." He let out a growl of amusement. "I don't know who was more surprised, him or us."

Lucy laughed slightly, knees almost buckling in relief. "Probably you. This isn't the first time this has happened to us."

Angrim tilted his head. "If you wished, I could bring him to you."

Lucy's eyes filled with that awful desperation that Caspian had been seeing far too much of in the last two weeks. "Yes!"

Angrim threw back his head and howled.

Caspian felt every hair on his arms and the back of his neck stand straight up at the eerie sound. Lucy closed her eyes and tipped her head back, and a look of pure joy spread over her features.

Caspian remembered an old Telmarine legend about the youngest monarch of Narnia. She'd been known as the Wolf Queen, because tales concerning her said that she dwelt in the forests of Narnia as a Huntress, as feral and wild as the Wolves she ran beside. Looking at her now, he could absolutely see where that legend had come from, no matter how his tutor ranted on and on about how "She is the Queen of the _Sea_ , not the _Woods_! Her brother rules the Woods! Bah! You Telmarines get everything backwards!"

Angrim tilted his head, ears pricked, as though he were waiting for something. Soon, a distant howl echoed from somewhere a good ways off, and Angrim turned back to Lucy.

"They are on their way," he told her. "We did not know what to expect at this gathering, so the King stayed behind with our Alpha. They will be here soon."

Lucy made a fist over her chest and bowed to the great Wolf. "Thank you, Angrim," she said softly.

He bowed to her in return, then leaped up the bank to stand with his pack.

* * *

Edmund paced back and forth at the cave mouth, fingers tapping restlessly against his arms.

Raegren laughed from where he was comfortably sprawled a few feet away. "Calm down, My King," the Alpha said. "The Gathering will be over soon, and then we shall have news."

"I can't calm down," Edmund said shortly, raking his fingers through his hair. "I don't know where she is. We checked all along the shore, and she wasn't there. I don't know where else to look."

"But someone had been in the treasure chamber of Cair Paravel," Raegren pointed out calmly. The massive Wolf rose to his feet and padded over to his King, nudging his chest gently. "You saw the plate as well as I did, Majesty. Someone took great care to make sure that was in your sister's arms. There was no dust on it, while everything else was covered. Not to mention her cordial, dagger, bow and arrows were all gone. The Lady was there, but was gone by the time we had organized enough to look. You know this."

Edmund sighed and leaned against his friend. "I'm worried," he said softly, "because she is alone. Susan and Peter have each other, and I have the pack. Even if she _did_ land at the Cair, she would have been alone."

"Not alone, My King," Raegren said sternly.

And just like that, Edmund's fear faded away, and the tension slipped from his shoulders. "Aslan," he breathed.

Raegren nodded, satisfied. "I have no doubts that He is watching over her."

Edmund nodded, then leaned back against the cave and slide to the floor. Raegren sat next to him, nudging his shoulder with a quiet whine, and Edmund leaned into his shoulder.

"How long is this—"Edmund cut himself off as a faint howl echoed through the night air.

Raegren threw his head back and unleashed a howl of his own while Edmund practically vibrated with tension beside him.

"That was Angrim, wasn't it?" the Western King demanded as soon as the Alpha turned to him.

Raegren's eyes glittered with a fierce joy. "The Wild Lady has been found," he said.

Edmund let out a desperate sigh of relief. "Oh, thank you, Aslan!" he cried.

Raegren crouched. "Quickly, Majesty! On my back! The Lady awaits!"

Edmund vaulted up onto the massive Wolf's back, and he took off at a full run.

Edmund stayed low on his back, pressing his face into the thick grey fur to hide from the biting wind.

 _The Wild Lady has been found._

A smile pulled at his mouth. _The Wild Lady_. That was what the Wolves had always called her. Out of all his siblings, Lucy had always understood him and his realm the best. Her woodcraft had been second to only him, and whenever he had to leave Narnia on a diplomatic nightmare or some such, on the rare occasions that she did not go with him, he knew his realm was in safe hands. Lucy had loved the Woods almost as much as she'd loved the sea.

The Sea…

Oh, it had captured his sister's heart and never let go. And Edmund had loved the Sea as much as Lucy loved the Woods. He was an extremely competent sailor, but Lucy….Lucy could read the sky and currents like no one he'd ever met. She loved her people dearly, and the Seafolk loved her just as much. She sang their songs and learned their tales. She spent every moment that she could on the waves, and lived every moment to the fullest. In many ways, Lucy was much like her Sea. She could be calm and peaceful one moment, then raging with impossible power the next. But she was beautiful and playful and absolutely _untamable_ as the blue-green waves that matched her eyes.

Sometimes, when he looked very closely, Edmund swore that he could see waves cresting and breaking in his sister's eyes. Likewise, she told him that she could see forests in his own deep brown, green-flecked orbs.

Their older siblings, in Narnia, had been unable to see it, but took their word for it with no doubt. In England, Peter's mouth thinned and his eyes turned to grey slate before he stormed out of the room, and Susan gave a false, nails-on-chalkboard laugh and told Lucy not to be so childish.

The look on her face when Susan was cruel and Peter was cold…It was enough to make Edmund's heart break. He would go and find her when she inevitably fled to cry alone, and wrap her up in his arms and hold her until she'd cried herself out. Edmund wasn't blind. He knew that he was the only one she ever let see her tears. Just as she was the only one who ever saw his.

He would never forget the first time after a fight when Peter hadn't checked on him, hadn't asked if he was alright, had just shouted at him to mind his own business and then stormed off.

That fight had been particularly brutal, and Edmund had a nasty pair of bruised ribs that were hurting something fierce. So he'd snuck upstairs and into the bathroom, closed and locked the door, and started to take care of himself. Peter wasn't going to do it.

* * *

 _He was trying to wrap his ribs when the locked door suddenly opened._

 _He spun around, mouth open in shock, hands grabbing for something to hide the damage from—Lucy?_

 _He blinked._

 _His youngest sister was standing there with a hairpin in one hand that she'd obviously used to pick the lock. Her face was pale, and her eyes were swirling whirlpools of pain and grief and understanding. Wordlessly, she slipped inside and closed the door behind her, then turned to him and lifted a soft washcloth that he hadn't seen in her other hand._

 _She sat him down on the edge of the tub, dampened her cloth, and started cleaning the blood off his face from his split lip and the gash above his eyebrow. She worked quickly and efficiently, and made him remember that she was not the helpless nine-year old she appeared to be._

 _The point was further driven home when she slipped out the door with a look that he knew meant "Don't move." She came back a few minutes later with a small bowl that had an incredibly familiar scent to it. His eyes widened. That was a poultice she'd used often in Narnia. It numbed pain and helped bones heal and he had no idea how she'd managed to get ahold of it in England._

 _But asking would burst this fragile bubble they'd constructed to pretend this wasn't real, so he said nothing. She applied the poultice and wrapped his chest with an expertise that would have terrified their mother._

 _Then she took one step back and opened her arms. And he collapsed into them, knowing that this was still a safe place. Knowing that she would never judge him for this. Knowing that she would never turn him away. And her arms held a promise as well: the next time this happened, she would be there with cloths and bandages and homemade remedies and unending, unconditional love. She would stand there with eyes full of pain until his overflowed. She would stand there with open arms and she would shelter him until he could protect himself again. She would be his fortress._

 _So he clung to her, and he cried, and she held him until he ran out of tears._

 _But not even Lucy could make the pain in his heart go away._

 _Peter had come to him in hysterical tears at some ungodly hour the next morning, sobbing for forgiveness and checking his entire body to make sure that he was alright. It turned out that Lucy had barged into Peter's room at some point, dragged him out of a deep sleep, thrown the bloody washcloth at the oldest boy's head and then refused to answer when he frantically asked if Ed was alright._

 _When asked, Lucy had shamelessly admitted to taking a bottle of red dye to the cloth, making it look like far more blood than it actually was._

 _(A minute later, Edmund "left the room." He hid himself around the corner and kept watching. Lucy's blazing eyes locked on Peter._

" _I had to throw a blood-soaked cloth at your head to make you check on him," Lucy said in a voice colder than anything Jadis had ever managed. "Do not ever let that happen again."_

 _Peter's face was still white. "I won't," he swore hoarsely._

 _But Edmund could see in Lucy's eyes the same terrible thought screaming in his own head._

 _ **Yes you will**_ _.)_

* * *

And he had. Many, many times over.

But where Peter had been unfaithful, Lucy had been true to her own unspoken promise: she was always there to pick up the pieces. For that alone, Edmund knew he owed his sister far more than he could ever repay her. He'd said that to her at some point, and she'd scoffed and gently smacked him.

" _Ed, you're returning the favor literally almost every other day. I'd say we're pretty even at this point."_

So that was how the year had gone: that one breaking, this one mending, reverse, repeat. And then they were at the station, and the wind started pulling at them, and the tiles started to peel away and the concrete and wood started to crumble and _oh._ They knew what was happening.

Susan had barked for them all to grab hands, and Edmund…..

He didn't know why he said what he did. Lucy would probably have a theory, but for whatever reason, Edmund had snapped, " _I'm not holding your hand!"_

And Peter had let go.

He actually let go of him, anger sparking in his eyes. Edmund had been too shocked to react in time, and suddenly all his siblings were looking blurry and far away. That was when Lucy had screamed.

* * *

 _Edmund met her eyes, and there was so much_ _ **fear**_ _there. She let go of Susan and flung herself towards him, and he reached for her desperately, but then she was gone and he was spinning upside down and browns and greens and blues were whirling by. He crashed into the ground with an almighty THUD, the frantic call of Lucy's name still on his lips._

 _Whatever it was he'd landed on gave a sharp yelp, and Edmund gave a yell of his own as he scrambled in the opposite direction, because even in Narnia the ground was_ _ **not**_ _supposed to be_ _ **speaking**_ _. He shot to his feet and pivoted, only to find himself face to face with the massive Wolves of the Western Woods._

 _He knew his mouth was hanging open, and tears were welling in his eyes, but he really didn't care, because these were his_ _ **people…..**_

* * *

He had spent the next week learning about what had happened to their home and the three weeks after that trying to find his incredibly wayward sister. He was worried about Susan and Peter as well, but they were together. They also weren't nine and ten.

Edmund hunched lower on the Alpha's back and wordlessly willed him to run faster.

Halfway through the second week he'd been among the pack, Raegren and his Beta, Angrim, had taken him to Cair Paravel. To see his beloved home like that was absolutely heartbreaking. He had shown them the wall that hid the door to the old treasure chamber, and had managed to get it open….

* * *

 _The door was halfway gone. The lock and handle were missing entirely, and the whole thing was hanging by a single hinge._

 _Edmund eyed it, jaw clenching. That looked rather intentional._

 _He shook it off and moved stealthily down the staircase, flanked by Wolves. They reached the bottom with no alarms or threats, and they carefully examined the room beyond before Edmund threw open the gates._

" _It's all still here….." he whispered. "Praise to the Lion, I was sure it'd be gone."_

" _Especially since the door was knocked in," Raegren added from his right._

 _Angrim's low voice cut Edmund off as he made to answer the Alpha. "What's that?"_

" _What?" Edmund followed the warrior's gaze, and felt his heart warm. The younger wolf was staring at Lucy's statue—or, more precisely, the golden engraving in the statue's arms._

 _It was Aslan._

 _The plate absolutely glowed. Edmund strode over to it, reaching out to touch the Lion's face._

" _It's clean," he said, partially surprised, but not really. "Everything else is just covered in dust, but this is spotless." He reached down and pulled open Lucy's chest. He immediately dug down the bottom, checking for the false compartment that he knew was in all the chests. Upon opening it, he discovered that all of his sister's weapons were gone, as well as her cordial. With a shaky breath, he closed the compartment and was about to close the chest when something caught his eye—a long, slinky, golden gown that had gray stains streaked up the entire skirt. He laughed aloud._

" _My king?" Raegren poked his nose around Edmund's hip._

" _My sister has most certainly been here," he said, still laughing. Relieved tears stung his eyes. "And I do believe she used the finest, most expensive gown she possessed to clean the dust from Aslan's image."_

 _The Wolf laughed with him. "If the Wild Lady was well enough to arm herself and so boldly declare her allegiance to the King, then I have no fear for her. He will guide and protect her."_

 _Edmund felt his fears melt away. "Aye," he said softly. "That He will."_

* * *

Edmund looked up as Raegren slowed, and realized that he'd been so caught up in his thoughts, he'd almost missed their arrival. The massive Alpha slowed to a stop at the top of a hill. A moment later, Angrim loped up to them.

"She is here," he said. "At the foot of the hill." He lowered his head and looked at Edmund. "And she is rather concerned about you, I might add. She invoked her full title, and demanded that the Pack answer."

Edmund felt his eyebrows go up. Though a power all of the siblings had, it was very rare that they chose to _demand_ something of their people. Usually all they had to do was ask.

"Then I had better get down there and reassure her, hadn't I?" he replied, and then sprinted down the hill before either of them could respond. He could hear Angrim growling in annoyance behind him as Raegren laughed. The Beta was always getting irritated at the both of them: they shared the same reckless tendencies, and as he was sworn to keep them both more or less in one piece, it made his life incredibly difficult.

But then his feet hit level ground, and a wordless cry of joy rang in his ears as a slender form slammed into his chest, and he really didn't care how irritated Angrim was. Lucy was in his arms. She was half laughing, half sobbing in his ear, and he knew he was probably going to leave bruises because of how tight he was holding her, but he really just didn't care.

Because she was safe. And she was here.

* * *

Lucy buried her face in Edmund's shoulder and took in a deep breath. Woods and wilderness and Wolf and that undefinable smell that was just _Brother._

"Thank Aslan you're alright," she whispered. "I tried to reach you, Ed, but I _couldn't_ and I'm so _sorry_ —"

"Lucy Pevensie!" he said, pushing her gently away to hold her by her shoulders. "I've half a mind to give you a good shake for that! Why did you let go? We had no idea what was going to happen, and—"

"I made you a promise, Ed," she said, quietly but with a voice of steel. "I might not have said it out loud, but I made it. And I intend to keep it."

He opened and closed his mouth a couple of times, then grumbled under his breath and just hauled her back into his arms. She went with no argument, and heard Trufflehunter give a cheer behind her.

"The Silver Crowns of Narnia have returned to us!"

There was a near deafening explosion of cheers and shouts and roars and yowls and all manner of sounds, and Edmund's smile was almost too wide for his face.

"All hail King Edmund!" Wimbleweather bellowed.

" _All hail King Edmund!"_ the Narnians roared back.

"All hail Queen Lucy!"

" _All hail Queen Lucy!"_

Lucy laughed, bright and joyful, and leaped up on a boulder. "My people!" she shouted, and they instantly quieted. "My brother and I are with you now, and our older siblings are on their way! Aslan has returned us to you in this time of war and strife. But let me make one thing very clear—we are not here to reclaim our own thrones. We cannot. They are gone. The Narnia we ruled is no more. We fight not for our kingdom, but for Caspian's."

Edmund's head swung around, and he regarded the young man who stood by the Centaur sire. He was tall and lithe, wearing armor and sword with the ease of one who knows his way about them. His eyes were dark, but bright, and his face was kind. He also looked absolutely terrified, and Edmund strode over to him, clapping a hand on his shoulder and trying not to laugh when the poor boy almost jumped out of his own skin.

Lucy aimed a quick smile their way and continued. "I will not lie to you—the battle to come will be brutal. The Telmarines are many. They are well trained and merciless. They have war machines the likes of which we cannot match. But," she paused, and her eyes burned with passion. The Narnians unconsciously straightened in response. "We have something the Telmarines do _not_ have and will _never_ have."

* * *

Caspian watched as Lucy drew both of her blades and flipped them easily in her hands. "We have Aslan. And who the Lion leads to war, He will not abandon. Those who seek His will and follow His words He will not forsake. Aslan has called us here, every last one of us. If we march under His banner, and follow where He leads, there are none who can stand against us." She turned her blazing eyes to Edmund, and he gave her a sharp nod, understanding.

Caspian raised an eyebrow as Edmund quickly ripped off a piece of the Prince's cloak and launched it into the air. Lucy flung her daggers, one after the other, with incredible speed, and they pinned the obviously Telmarine cloth to a tree across the gathering: a declaration of war.

"For Narnia!" she shouted. " _And for Aslan!"_

The Narnians shouted back and Edmund leaped up beside his sister. He shot her an absolutely feral grin and Caspian's eyes widened as the Western King threw back his head and _howled_ like the Wolves he commanded.

The Eastern Queen raised her bow high in the air, something old and _wild_ burning in her eyes, and tipped her head back as her voice mingled with her brother's in an eerie, ancient, powerful call to war that their people answered with no hesitation in a deafening roar.

Caspian stared up at the Royals in awe. They were lit by the full moon behind them and the torches all around. They stood above their people, yet with them. They were wild and gentle and terrifying and inspiring all at the same time. There was something undeniably _feral_ about their haunting call, and it felt as ancient and wild as the land Caspian stood upon, and the look in both siblings' eyes matched the feeling.

These were not _children_. This was a _King_ and a _Queen_ , and they were on their way to wage a war _._ They were waging a war to reclaim what was theirs, and they would not be denied.

' _You had best pray to Aslan for mercy, Uncle_ ,' the Prince thought darkly. He raised his own voice to answer the call _._

' _Because you will find_ _ **none**_ _in the Silver Crowns of Narnia.'_

* * *

 **So I think I'm gonna do a second chapter on this one, because I really, really love it.**

 **Chap 2 will cover the reunion of the Four, and will also touch on the thing that Lucy swore never to reveal (which is just gonna be a big ole pile of angst, so you're welcome for that)**

 **Loved it, hated it, let me know!**

 **Till next time!**


	2. Where We All Belong

**What's up, y'all! I'm surviving!**

 **Thriving is debatable, but I ain't dead yet, so I consider that an unparalleled success.**

 **SO**

 **Here is chapter two! Hope you all enjoy!**

 **Este capitulo esta dedicado a Yulian! Muchos gracias por tus palabras simpatico, mi amigo!**

 **WARNINGS: The usual. Lots of emotions and angst.**

 **DISCLAIMER: I don't own anything.**

 **9/6/19 EDIT: Hey, guys! So, one of my reviewers pointed out a huge continuity error that I had in this chapter. It's talking about a scene where Peter and Susan were with Lucy when she arrived at Cair Paravel, which obviously didn't happen in this AU. So sorry! It's fixed now. And a huge shout out to trustingHim17, who pointed this out to me. THANK YOU SO MUCH!**

* * *

 _Where We All Belong_

* * *

When the gathering was over, the Narnians drifted into groups to discuss what had happened. Then Edmund heard Lucy laugh. That was his only warning before she crashed into him, tackling him off the boulder, arms winding tight around his neck, half-sobbing into his shoulder. He wrapped his own arms around her as tight as he could, clinging with all his strength.

His precious little sister was in his arms, safe and whole and alive.

"I am _so_ glad to see you," he breathed, pressing a hand to the back of her head.

She let out a hiccuping sob of laughter, and squeezed him tighter. "I was so worried," she whispered. "I landed on the beach at Cair Paravel, and you were gone." Her voice filled with pain, and Edmund closed his eyes. Oh, how he wished he could have protected Lucy from the pain of seeing their home in ruins.

"I know," he said. "I saw the engraving of Aslan your statue was holding."

"Aslan led me to Trumpkin, Nikabrik, and Trufflehunter a few days later," she said softly. "It didn't take long to prove to them who I am. I've been here for just over two weeks. I've asked around, and the Foxes told me that they laid a false trail down for the Telmarine scouts to follow. So I don't think we actually need to worry about Miraz's men, because they're all rubbish at woodcraft. Except the General, but while he's good, he is no match for the Woodland creatures of the West."

Edmund laughed. "How long do you think the scouts will be distracted?" he asked.

She giggled. "Thielen told me that the trail goes as far as Beruna," she said. "Once they get there, they'll figure it out. She estimated that it will take them about four days to figure out the ruse and start over. Three if they push their animals hard."

Edmund winced. "We'll have three," he said. "I've heard tales about the General. He is a good man, but he fears Miraz."

Lucy sobered. "I think everyone fears Miraz," she said. "I mean, just look at what he's done to the woods!"

Edmund wasn't able to hide the flash of agony in his eyes. He knew very well what the usurper had done to his realm. To his people….

"Oh, I'm sorry, Ed," Lucy said gently. She put a hand on his arm. "That was careless of me."

He managed a smile for her, then tweaked her nose. She wrinkled the offended part and gave him a dramatic look of betrayal. That got a real laugh out of him, and she grinned impishly as she poked him in the stomach.

"What of the Sea?" he asked her.

Her smile dropped, and so did his heart. "Oh, Lu," he sighed. He wrapped his arms around her, and she hid her face in his chest.

"It's dead," she whispered, sounding every bit as young as she looked. "They're all gone. I called and called and called, but they're all gone. The Sea is as cold and dead as it was when we first arrived."

Edmund closed his eyes and kissed the top of her head. The Sea was Lucy's home as much as the Cair had been. The merfolk, naiads, and all of the other sea creatures had loved her dearly, and at least one _always_ answered when she called them. That her call had gone unanswered was not a good sign.

"They've probably just gone to the seafloor," he said gently. "Except for their pirates, those blasted Telmarines never were sailors, so the seafolk just went where they couldn't be followed. Just you wait. They'll be back."

She sniffed and nodded.

A throat was cleared rather awkwardly behind them, and they turned to see Caspian standing there, scuffing one foot on the ground. "I'm sorry to intrude, your Majesties—" he started.

Lucy glared at him. "Caspian," she grit out, and the boy's eyes widened. "What have I told you about _titles?_ "

Caspian grinned sheepishly. "Not to use them unless I want you to quote the entirety of my lineage back to me every time you address me?"

She threw her hands up in exasperation. "Yes! Is that really so hard to remember?!"

The Prince had to laugh. "Sorry, Lu," he said with a smile. He held out a hand to Edmund, and the King gripped it firmly.

"It's great to meet you, Caspian," he said, clapping his other hand on the Prince's shoulder with a warm smile.

"We're adopting him, by the way," Lucy informed him as she looped her arm through Caspian's. "I hope you don't mind."

"Not at all!" Edmund could feel his smile fade. "But...I'm not really sure how Peter will react to that."

Lucy's eyes darkened. "We'll bring him back," she said firmly. "We can't keep going on like we have been. I'm _sure_ that being home will bring him back to us."

Edmund pressed a kiss to her forehead and didn't say that he'd run out of optimism months ago. He didn't comment on the way her voice cracked, either.

"Um," Caspian cleared his throat, blushing and looking ridiculously happy. "I don't want to cause any trouble between—"

"Don't be silly, Caspian," Lucy interrupted. "If Peter wants to be a git about it, then he can just go and be a git alone off in the corner. You're a part of our family now, and that's that."

"Oh." The boy looked overwhelmed.

Ed bit back a smile. "Was there something you wanted to tell us, Caspian?" he asked gently.

The older boy shook himself. "Err, yes. Some of the Talking Mice have found a place we can make our stronghold. It's called Aslan's How."

Lucy paled and Edmund stiffened. "Aslan's How?" the older Pevensie repeated.

Caspian nodded. "I take it that wasn't here in your day?"

"No," Lucy said softly. "It wasn't." She took a deep breath. "Well, we have three days before the Telmarine scouts can get here, and the other two Royals have to have arrived at this point. Once they've been located, we can send messages through the Trees." Then she stopped and blinked hard for a moment. "The Squirrels can take messages through the Trees," she corrected herself. Edmund's jaw clenched, and Lucy took his hand.

"Alright, then," said the Just. "Let's go. To the How!"

* * *

They reached the How around midday, and the siblings walked into the caverns a little hesitantly. Lucy stayed close to Edmund's side, arm wrapped around his. He held onto her just as tightly.

"Your Majesties!" a faun called from where he stood to the left.

They walked over, followed by Caspian, and the guard gestured towards the wall with his torch. Lucy let out a hoarse sound, and Edmund went very still.

"It's us," he said softly.

They stared at the paintings of themselves and their siblings, seeing the coronation, the battle with the Witch. Edmund shuddered when they passed the one of him breaking her wand, and Lucy pressed closer, glaring at the image as though she wanted to go kill her all over again.

They passed the wars with the giants, and the Calormens. They passed the treaties with Archenland, and the reclaiming of the Lone Islands. Then they passed the White Stag, and Lucy stopped, staring at it with wide, tear-filled eyes.

"Lucy?" Edmund asked, worry springing up in his heart. That was not a look he _ever_ liked seeing on her face. Never mind the fact that she was a fierce warrior and deadly hunter in her own right, she was still his little sister.

She shook her head and gave him a weak smile.

"I'm alright," she murmured. "Just...not really a good memory."

Edmund tightened his hold on her and drew her away from the image.

A few steps later, she stopped dead, and a broken sound punched out of her chest. Edmund followed her gaze, and sagged against the wall.

The Faun held his umbrella over his head, standing beneath the lamppost with his arms full of packages, and a red scarf around his neck.

Mr. Tumnus.

Lucy reached a trembling hand out and traced the face of her dearest friend. Edmund reached out and caught her fingers, pulling her closer and letting her hide in his arms. He stared at the image of his closest adviser, the only one who could ever completely understand the nightmares of ice and snow. It really hit him then, that they were all gone. He tightened his hold on Lucy, and they pushed on into the dark tunnel.

Finally, they reached a large chamber that was utterly dark. They scouted around the doorway a bit, and Lucy found the trough of oil. They stuck a torch in it, and backed away cautiously as the fire raced around the room. It illuminated a massive relief of Aslan on the back wall, framed by two tall stone pillars.

But the eyes of the two Royals were drawn to the middle of the floor. There was a massive slab of stone there, with supports at all four corners and stairs leading up the sides. There were words carved all around the edge of it, in an ancient language long dead. But Edmund knew that Lucy had learned that Tongue, because she had taught it to him. He knew she'd learned it because of what happened here. The slab was split in half down the middle, utterly broken.

The Stone Table.

Lucy walked forwards as though in a trance. Edmund stayed by the door, watching her with old eyes. This was her legend, the tale of the Valiant Queen who stayed by the Table all night, and rode to war on the back of the resurrected King.

She traced her fingertips over the runes, and turned to look back at her brother. "He must know what He's doing," she said, tears sparkling in her eyes. Then she held out her hand, because this was his legend, too—after all, Aslan had come here for him.

Edmund walked forwards and took her outstretched hand. Together, the Just and the Valiant knelt before the mighty reminder of just how much Aslan loved them. Edmund reached out a trembling hand and rested it on the rune that he knew meant "traitor," and felt tears pool in his eyes. Aslan had died here, for him. To save the life of a worthless traitor. And again, just as it had every other time he came here, love and overwhelming gratitude overflowed from his heart.

He glanced at Lucy, and found her sitting on her knees with her head tilted up, the warm light of the fire falling on her face. There were tear tracks on her cheeks, and they glittered like paths of molten gold in the light. She squeezed his hand and pried open her eyes, using her other hand to swipe away her tears.

"Well," she said. "At least now we know why it's called a How."

Edmund let out a watery laugh and wiped his own eyes. "True," he said. He cleared his throat and rose to his feet. He pulled Lucy up as well, and as one, they turned and bowed before the image of the Lion.

Then he offered her his arm, and she took it. They walked together back to Caspian and Avus, the Faun guard. Both of them stared at the siblings in awe, as though just realizing who they really were. Lucy smiled gently and took one of Avus' hands and one of Caspian's.

"He knows what He's doing," she said. "If we trust Him, He will not fail us. He never has, and He never will."

They nodded wordlessly, and she released them and swept past them, going back up the tunnel.

Edmund clapped Caspian on the shoulder and smiled at Avus, then followed his sister.

"They are just as the legends described them," Avus whispered.

"Aye," Caspian said. "And more."

* * *

It was after the evening meal when Edmund realized he'd lost Lucy. He searched around for a bit, but didn't see her. She wasn't at the Dwarf forges, where she'd been at noon, unintentionally winning even the Black Dwarfs over with her genuine admiration of their work. She wasn't with the Faun archers, correcting stances and teaching new recruits. She wasn't with the Badgers like she had been this morning, learning everything she could about happenings in Narnia since their disappearance, disregarding the agony glittering in her eyes with every tale of defeat and oppression. She wasn't even with the herd of young children she'd found earlier and befriended in two seconds flat.

Edmund stopped in the middle of the central cavern and planted his hands on his hips. He wasn't _really_ worried about her—Lucy could take care of herself. But...he was worried about her. He _hated_ being separated from any of his siblings, and the last two weeks had been an absolute nightmare. He didn't even want to think what it must have been like for Lucy. That, added to how torn up Lucy had been about the Sea earlier, was making Ed just want to wrap her up in his arms and never let go of her again.

He sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. Lucy really had had a rough time of it. Upon arrival, she'd been dropped into the desolate ruins of the place that used to be her home, discovered that her realm was as cold and empty as it had been during the 100 Year's Winter, and been told that nearly 1300 years had passed, all of her friends were dead, and her country had been invaded and conquered.

And she'd been completely alone.

Plus, he didn't like the way she'd been looking at the painting of the White Stag earlier. Something was bothering her.

Yeah...

He needed to find her.

He spun on his heel, scanning the room again with no results.

Where could that girl be?!

"How hard can it be to find one human?" he muttered. "I mean, yeah, she's tiny, but there's really just not that many places to hide!"

"Are you looking for the Queen, Sire?" asked a rough voice behind him.

He spun, seeing one of the Red Dwarf smiths standing there with a load of firewood hoisted over one shoulder.

"I am, my good Dwarf," he answered. "I don't suppose you've seen her?"

"Matter of fact, I did see her 'bout a half hour ago," answered the smith. "She was headed down that tunnel there—" he pointed to the doorway that led to the Table. "—and I haven't seen her come back up."

"Thank you, my friend," the king said with a little bow.

"My pleasure, m'Lord," the smith ducked his head and went about his business, and Edmund jogged down the tunnel, shaking his head at himself.

Because really, this was _Lucy_. Where else would she be?

* * *

He found Lucy sitting on the opposite side of the Table, curled up on the steps and staring at Aslan.

"Did you mean it?" she whispered, and Edmund froze in place, blinking in confusion, before realizing that she was talking to Aslan. Her voice was choked and hoarse, and he frowned.

Something was definitely wrong.

"Did you really mean it?" she asked again. "Because I...I know that you speak the truth, always. And I would never doubt you, Aslan, but I just...I don't understand how it can be true. I can't..." she ran her hand through her hair and sighed. "I just don't understand, Aslan."

She sounded so small and so lost that Edmund's heart almost broke. He settled down beside her and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. She instantly leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder, but she didn't look away from the Lion.

"Why did you follow me?" she murmured.

"I'd follow you anywhere," he said. He laced their fingers together and squeezed tight. "Even out of a Wardrobe."

He saw her eyes widen and fill with tears, and his heart sank. He knew that look—she was blaming herself.

"How did you—" her voice cracked, and she tried to turn away, but Edmund wrapped his arms around her and refused to let go.

"The way you looked at the painting of the Stag," he said quietly. "Oh, Lucy, it's not your fault."

"Yes it is!" she burst out, jerking away from him and stumbling to her feet. "It's all my fault! If I had just paid attention, if I had just _listened_ ….But no. I had to go tearing off, not thinking of anything but myself! I—" she stopped herself, twisting away.

Ed rose to his feet and reached for her, but she backed up.

"I just didn't _listen_ ," she said. "I didn't think, and I ripped us from our home! This is all on me! Telmar _feared_ us. While we were here, Narnia was safe. But I led us _out_ , and we couldn't get _back_ , and when we were gone—"

"Lucy!" Edmund protested. "It's not your fault! We chose to follow you! How can you say that it's your fault?"

" _Look what's happened!"_ she cried out desperately. Tears were beginning to well in her eyes. "You didn't _see_ them at the Gathering, Edmund! They are so full of fear and hate and anger. They were ready to murder Caspian on the spot because of what the Telmarines have done to them. Our people are living in _holes in the ground!_ They are _hunted_ and _hated_ and almost _extinct!_ And that's on me! We weren't here to protect them! And I'm the reason that we weren't here!"

" _Lucy_ ," Edmund said, tears filling his own eyes.

"I abandoned Narnia!" she cried. She closed her eyes then, and her voice dropped to a whisper. " _And I destroyed our brother._ "

Edmund sucked in a sharp breath. "What _?"_ he whispered.

Lucy sobbed. "Don't you see?" she asked. "If Peter hadn't been taken away from Narnia, he wouldn't have lost himself. You wouldn't have lost your best friend and confidant. He wouldn't be throwing himself into _useless_ fights that do nothing but hurt both himself and you! He wouldn't use his words to hurt you and he wouldn't—" she swallowed hard, her tears falling faster. "He wouldn't be the one hitting you, either."

Edmund froze, feeling all the color drain from his face. Lucy had sworn to him, on the name of the Lion, to never tell another living soul about that.

"He's...he's only done that a couple of times," he choked out.

"He's pouring all of his grief and rage on you, and it's _wrong_ , Ed," she sobbed. "And you just _take_ it. I can make the bruises go away, but _Peter_ is the one giving them to you and every time he lays a hand on you, he inflicts a wound that _I can't heal._ Why?" she looked up at him. "Why do you let him hurt you like that?"

"What else can I do?" he managed.

Lucy stumbled to her knees, face hidden in her hands, shoulders shaking with grief. " _I'm sorry,_ " she rasped. " _I'm so, so sorry."_

" _Lucy_ ," he choked, his own tears making themselves known. He fell to the ground beside her, hauling her onto his lap. She clung to him, and he ran his hand through her hair and kissed her forehead, rocking her back and forth.

"Lucy," he said. "This is _not_ your fault. _Peter_ is not your fault. Did it hurt to leave Narnia? _Yes."_

Lucy curled tighter into herself and pressed a hand to her mouth to muffle her cries.

"We didn't want to leave," he whispered. "But you didn't, either. I know that you would _never_ have led us out on purpose. You didn't mean to. I know that, Lucy, and so do the others. We have _never_ blamed you for this, Lucy."

"The others do," she whimpered. "It was one of those days when you were in the library all day, back at the Professor's. Susan asked me why I did it, and Peter just stared at me with dead eyes _. They blame me_ , Eddie."

Edmund closed his eyes. _Oh, Susan. Oh,_ _ **Peter**_ _. How could you hurt her like this?_

He stroked her hair again. "I never have and never will blame you for this, Lucy," he said gently. " _I don't blame you_ , and neither does Aslan."

Lucy shuddered, and curled closer. "I know," she whispered. "I...I saw Him, soon after I got here. He told me that He didn't, but I just..." she sobbed. "Seeing our people, hearing how angry and afraid and broken they are..." She shook his head. "He should," she whispered. "He should blame me. It's my fault."

Edmund held her tighter, his heart breaking for his sister at the same time it leaped for joy, knowing that Lucy had seen the Lion. "Absolutely not," he said fiercely. "Lucy, He gave his life for me when I barely even believed in Him. You have loved, trusted, and believed in Him your whole life. He knows exactly what was going through your mind that day. And oh, Sister Mine," he pushed her up so she was facing him. He stared into her tormented, sea-colored eyes and wiped away her tears. "If our leaving wasn't a part of Aslan's plan, He would have stopped us. It was His _plan_ for us to leave. Think about that, Sister. Aslan chose you to lead us out because the rest of us weren't strong enough."

Lucy closed her eyes and let out a wet laugh. "He said the same thing," she murmured. She sniffed, wiping at her face with her sleeve. "I just...I still don't understand."

 _So that's what she was talking about when I cam in._

"Then think about it this way," he urged. "Susan is the Gentle. She would never lead us back to a world where she was barely acknowledged. Peter is the Magnificent. He is our High King, our protector. In our world, he's just a boy. He would never lead us back to a place that he could not protect us in. I am the Just. I am a judge and adviser. A warrior and King, yes, but I follow my brother, and I follow the Lion. I could never lead us back to a place where I was a disloyal unbeliever. But you, Lucy." He wiped her tears away and felt a smile growing on his own face. "You are the Valiant, and valiance is not merely a little girl's faith. Sometimes it means that you must bear the burdens the rest of us cannot. Aslan chose you to lead us out because He knew that you would not falter. You would never doubt Him. You have always doubted yourself, but even in your darkest moments, you have trusted Him with all your heart. That's why it was you, Lucy."

She leaned forward and hugged him tightly. "He told me that, too," she said. "Honestly, Ed, if I didn't know any better, I'd think you've been eavesdropping on mine and Aslan's conversations."

Edmund laughed quietly, kissing her temple and rubbing her back.

"I don't mean to doubt His words," she said quietly. "I just...after seeing all the hate and fear, all those feelings came back. Because I know that if we'd stayed, this wouldn't have happened."

"We don't know that, Lucy," Edmund said, leaning back to face her. "If this was Aslan's plan, then it would have happened regardless of what we did. Hold on to what He told you, Lu. He loves you, He forgives you, and He doesn't blame you. If Aslan himself has declared you forgiven, there is no one alive in any world who has the right to condemn you." He smiled and tucked her hair behind her ears before wrapping his arm around her shoulders. "Just hold on to that, Lu. You'll see. It'll get better."

She sniffed, wiping away the last of her tears. "Thank you, Ed."

"You are so welcome, Lu," he whispered back. He kissed her temple, then added. "And for what it's worth, I forgave you as soon as I realized what had happened."

She gave him a shaky, brilliant smile and curled up beside him on the steps, resting her head on his shoulder. A few minutes later, Edmund realized she'd fallen asleep.

He smiled and carefully lifted her in his arms, taking pains not to wake her. He carried her through the How until he reached the chamber that had been set aside for the three Royals.

Caspian had already claimed the one closest to the door, and was lying face-down, still fully clothed.

Ed shook his head with a soft laugh. The poor Prince looked like he'd just collapsed as soon as he'd gotten through the door. His boots were still on, for Aslan's sake.

He laid Lucy down on the bedroll farthest from the door, then carefully tugged Caspian's boots off, snorting and biting his lip to muffle his laughter when the Prince half-wailed something about _five more minutes, professor, for the love of Narnia, let me sleep!_

He pulled off his and Lucy's boots before curling up beside his sister, pulling her into his arms and spreading a blanket over them. She snuggled closer, sniffing and resting her head on his shoulder with a soft sigh.

The Silver King smiled, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath.

They were going to be fine.

* * *

When Edmund woke up the next morning, Caspian was sprawled out over an impressive amount of the floor and Lucy was still asleep on his shoulder. He could see the remnants of tear stains on her face. It absolutely broke his heart, but her expression was peaceful now, and he knew that she'd be alright.

Ed carefully wiggled his shoulder out from under her head and stood up, but he hadn't got more than a step away when a pillow hit him in the back of the head. He whipped around, but neither of his roommates seemed to have moved. He stepped towards the door, then spun back sharply—just in time for the next pillow to hit him square in the face.

"What in—" he spluttered, surprised.

Then he heard a giggle. "Got you, you little imp!" he shouted, cheerfully pouncing on his sister. She squealed and abandoned her pretense of sleep, scrabbling in the blankets to get away. But he was too quick, and he was on her in a flash, digging his fingers into her ribs. Peals of silvery laughter echoed through the halls, and more than one Narnian found themselves smiling at the sound.

Caspian woke up to Lucy's breathless, half shrieked pleas for mercy.

"Caspian!" she cried between shouts of laughter. "Save me!"

"At once, my Lady!" he cried. He leaped to his feet, shouted, "Avast, you fiend!" and tackled Edmund. Lucy dove out of the way as the two boys yelled and tussled and attacked fiercely with pillows. She timed it ever so carefully, then snuck up right behind her brother and _whop!_ Slammed a pillow into the back of his head. He fell forward with a yelp, and she tackled him with a gleeful shout. The whole thing quickly devolved into a game of "smack as many people as you can as many times as you can with as many pillows as you can."

Finally, all three of them collapsed, gasping for breath and laughing.

"I think," Caspian panted, "that that was the most fun I have ever had before breakfast."

" _I_ think," Edmund replied, "that you had better get used to it, because Lucy is an incorrigible little imp, and she likes to torment innocent, unsuspecting— _oof!"_

"What he means to say," Lucy said primly from where she was perched on her brother's stomach, "Is that he's terribly provoking, and you can hardly blame a girl for defending herself."

Edmund shoved her off with a good-natured grumble, and she curled up between the two boys, giggling. "I suppose we had better get up now," she said.

Edmund groaned and hid his face in her shoulder, and Caspian made a retching noise and buried his face in a pillow.

Lucy laughed. "Well, you can't stay in bed all day!"

"Watch me," Ed growled.

Lucy rolled her eyes and shoved at his chest. "Alright, alright, let me up." She climbed to her feet and stretched, then pulled on her boots and buckled the belt that held her dagger and cordial. She strapped one of her twin knives to the hip opposite her dagger, and sheathed a dirk in her boot. She grinned at the boys. "I'm going down to the kitchen to see if I can help with breakfast," she said. "I'll send someone to get you when it's ready, if you want to sleep some more."

"Don't bother, Lu," Edmund said. "We'll be up in a minute."

"Alright," she said. "Don't be too long!"

Edmund stretched and yawned as Lucy's footsteps faded down the hallway.

"She seems much better today," Caspian said, and Edmund blinked at him.

"What's that?"

The Prince smiled at him. "She was so worried about all of her siblings, but you in particular. She just seems much happier and more relaxed now that you're here."

Ed shrugged. "Lu and I became close the first time we were here, and we maintained that when we went back to England. There are two crowns of gold and two of silver, and we work best when we're together." He grinned. "But I have to say the same. I feel loads better now that I've seen her and know for sure that she's okay." He hauled himself to his feet. "Now we had better get a move on if we don't want her to be back in twenty minutes with a bucket of ice water to wake us up."

Caspian blinked. "Where would she get the ice?"

Edmund gave him a look of mock horror. "Don't ask questions you don't want to know the answers to," he said, and Caspian burst out laughing.

"Of course, your majesty," he said.

Edmund smirked. "After you, Your Grace." He bowed and swept his arm towards the door.

"No, no, I insist, My Lord," the other youth imitated him.

They managed to keep straight faces for all of ten seconds before Caspian snickered.

It wasn't long before they were leaning on each other, laughing themselves to tears.

"Alright you children," Lucy's fond voice came from the door, where she stood with her hands on her hips. "If you're quite done?"

"Yes, yes, sorry, Lu," Edmund gasped between spurts of laughter.

Caspian didn't even try to speak, and Edmund lost it all over again.

Lucy tried to keep a stiff upper lip, but when Edmund slipped on a blanket and fell into Caspian, knocking them both to the floor, she gave up and laughed, cheerfully tackling them both.

As they finally straightened themselves out and started down the hall to breakfast, shoving each other and still giggling, Edmund couldn't stop his smile.

Susan and Peter were lost, that was true.

But he had Lucy. And he had Aslan. And Caspian was proving himself to be an intelligent, kind boy full of hope and faith.

 _Keep a sharp watch, Usurper,_ he thought.

They stepped into the main cave of the How and he looked around at the massive Centaurs, savage Wolves, brutal Minotaurs, wily Foxes, and many, many more.

 _We want our home back._

The cavern echoed with the pounding of the smiths' hammers, the soft _thunk_ s of new bows being tested, and the harsh scrape of sharpening swords.

 _You are standing in our way._

The Silver King gave a sharp smile, as savage and wild as the Wolves he commanded.

 _We are coming for you._

* * *

 **And voila!**

 **Chapter two.**

 **This took FOREVER to get done, and I'm so sorry about the wait! Hopefully it was worth it?**

 **Loved it, hated it, let me know!**

 **See you next time!**


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